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Lessons	By : Scold Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 2912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Lessons
- 2-Lessons Learnt
- 1
- 2
S: I’ve completed a Mr Bucket/Wonka fic, now I have a Mr Salt/Wonka fic! Yay!
I love Charlie/Wonka (those fics in the book section) but I don’t see it happening in the movie, which is why I have found other victims…people to pair with our wonderful Mr Wonka!
Huzzah!
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything nor am I making money from this, however I may be a contributing factor to that whizzing noise, i.e Roald Dahl spinning in his grave.
Warning: (nothing graphic) Slash, mxm, two men in a sexual relationship: one Mr Willy Wonka and one Mr Jonathan Salt (Yes, I have named him Jonathan, if you know his real name please tell me so I can fix it up)
C&C Welcome!
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Chapter 1 ~ Unintentional Lessons
Wonka could feel the migraine seeping from the base of his neck to slink up and around to drill into his temples. He didn’t allow his jaw to relax the unnatural smile as he led the five children and their guardians down the long hallway towards the increasingly small end where the tiny door led to the chocolate room.
He knew this was a bad idea. Especially when the rude little brats questioned him, but wasn’t it the parents fault for the way their children turned out? Choosing to ignore the children he instead regarded the guardians, the vile and vicious woman with her awful blue jump suit sent a shiver of disgust down Wonka’s spine. Not to mention the balding and timid school teacher with his violent and blood thirsty brat.
He shot a look at the old man that walked with a quick shuffle; he had used to work at the factory, one of the more loyal employees, or so he had said. Wonka didn’t trust him.
He tried to avoid looking behind him at the lumbering woman and her stripped son desecrating his chocolate bars. However the man that garnered the most attention was Mr Salt, the spoilt little brat’s father. He held himself stiffly, eyes drooping in a look of distinguished boredom. It reminded Wonka of his own father, however it seemed they were completely opposite as the man seemed to sway to every whim of the young child that was now clutching at him.
Crouching down to unlock the small door he felt something brush against his back as they all leaned in to watch what he was doing. It almost made him jump and the urge to run was great. He hadn’t been touched, hadn’t allowed anyone close enough to him to get within reaching distance for years.
Swallowing, squelching the need to rid the factory of the presence of these people he pushed open the doors to reveal the chocolate room to a chorus of audible gasps. He ignored the touch as an accident and led them along the narrow bridge further into the chocolate room, wincing as their heavy footfalls crushed the perfectly manicured grass.
He cleared his throat and began explaining the ingenious of the waterfall, the uniqueness that prevailed throughout the whole factory, but after a while he noticed they seemed more interested with the room, greedy for more.
One of the brats questioned him and he tried not to lower himself to the level of the shorter one, avoiding his eyes as he stated that everything in the room was edible.
“Even I’m eatable.” He let the false smile stretch as he let his eyes sweep the parents, landing on the suited man who regarded him down his nose. “But that children is called cannibalism and is frowned upon by most cultures.” He twirled the cane and motioned with his hand. “Now off you go, enjoy.” The parents and the children stared at him before he waved a little more violently, his thin lips stretching wider. “Go on.”
He hated this socializing thing, he wished he didn’t need a hair, he could’ve found a wife to help him make one, but the idea squicked him, he didn’t like the idea of sharing his creative process with anyone. He had no idea why he had though that by sending five lucky tickets out that even one of the candidates would be suitable. He knew they would all fail, but at least the young boy, the one who had been the only person to gain the ticket with the help of fate, as opposed to his parents’ money or brains, would be the most likely to win.
He stopped his musing as the proper English gentleman stood regarding him, staring openly at him, as if looking for something, a sign perhaps. Wonka fought the urge to poke his tongue out and stared back, only to have the man almost shrug to himself before wandering off.
What had that been about? He watched the other man, confused, maybe there had been developments in the socializing standard of the outside world. Maybe the rudeness that he had just witnessed was in fact a norm now days. Shrugging to himself he let the migraine thump wearily in his temples as he walked through his beautiful room, watching it become destroyed by these almost otherworldly creatures.
He shuddered when he saw the blue wearing blonde smile at the elder gentleman, her teeth stained with his precious marshmallow fruits. He noticed the look of horror pass across the other mans face before it was concealed with a mask of indifference learnt from a necessity in a high-class lifestyle. It almost made him giggle childishly, but he thought better of it.
He hadn’t realized he was watching the other man so closely until the man’s little brat child pointed out the Oompa Loompa’s and he found himself wondering where the time had gone.
~
Explaining about the Oompa Loompa’s hadn’t gone down as well as he thought it would. Some people didn’t seem to be able to extend their boundaries further than their comfort zone, the look he got from the English gentleman confirmed his thoughts. Narrow minded, pompous rich man who bought his wife and bribes his child with gifts. It made him a little disheartened to learn that people really were what he thought them to be.
“How dull.” He muttered to himself.
“Pardon?” The English accent bit through the air and Wonka turned back to find the Englishman regarding him, standing a little too close for comfort. He shifted uncomfortably, but refused to move. Maybe with the growth of population people’s personal space had shrunk and this closeness was normal.
“I was just commenting on-“
“Augustus Gloop!” The screech startled both men and Wonka found himself wincing, as what he predicted came to play right before his eyes. Someone was touching his chocolate, his pure, precious chocolate.
He watched unimpressed as the boy fell in, waiting for the tubes to come in and suck the vile waste away. The tube wouldn’t really take the boy to the fudge room, but it amused him to tell the panicking mother that her son would soon be pummeled and beaten into sticky strawberry fudge, and it did go well with the Oompa Loompa song.
Smiling he listened to the song, avoiding the watchful eyes of the English man. The Oompa Loompa’s hadn’t sung for quiet awhile and he was glad they finally had a chance to.
His good mood deteriorated though when the young boy accused him of preplanning the event, and the questioning gaze of the higher-class man unnerved him. Just because he had predicted this would happen, and had forewarned the Oompa Loompa’s didn’t mean he forced the overweight child to greedily consume his river and fall in. He hadn’t been there to push the boy in, he had been… he had been staring into Mr Salts eyes and their muted colours.
Shaking his head he dismissed the child and the thought. Instead he led them to a boat, planning on getting rid of the chewing gum girl next.
A filthy habit.
~
His migraine lessened as the day continued, they had just gotten rid of the bloated blue child and all was going to plan. The only thing he hadn’t counted on was his growing fascination with the spoiled brats father. He liked his accent and found that every time his gaze swept over him he found himself tongue tied or an odd feeling would flitter in his stomach.
Not only that but it seemed he would find himself accidentally brushing past the older man, or the other would accidentally touch him. It had turned into an almost game, seeing if he could brush past the other before the other man could retaliate, all under the unsuspecting eyes of the others. He hadn’t touched anyone this much for, well, since he could remember, and he most certainly had never felt this tingling every time they did brush past.
He had fought over the idea of getting rid of Mike TV first, so they could continue the game but hadn’t been able to figure out how they could have returned to the nut room without it seeming too suspicious. So after his momental flashback, and the worried look he received from the others, especially the worried and curiously look from the English man they walked further down the flight of stairs where the nut room and the failure of the spoiled brat lay waiting.
“You see I’m in the nut business.” Wonka had ignored the first part of the speech, just content to watch the mans lips move, but he was forced to pay attention when a card was shoved under his nose.
Wonka blinked, throwing the card over his shoulder and giggled, brushing past the man, hoping he would win the game.
“You’re weird.”
The man only replied with a questioning look before they all became aware of the squirrels. It was only a matter of time after he had emphasized the specialty of the small tree-climbing rodents, their training and their cuteness that the small girl caved in without so much as a push and demanded to have one.
As the girl ranted and raved and the elder man looked like he was embarrassed by such behaviour Wonka found himself wondering if the man would actually fail like he had suspected he would.
“How much?” Wonka almost sighed in disappointment, and the man seemed to understand his failure as a small glint flickered in his eyes, his lips pursed and a small blush creeping across his cheeks.
“They’re not for sale.”
The girl looked like she was about to throw a tantrum, but before she did Wonka mocked her with a perfect replica of her fathers voice, seeing the older man wince at the prefect imitation. He hated doing this, but it was the only way these people would learn, no one else had the power or privilege to teach them a lesson.
The girl slid between the bars and made her way into the room, Wonka tried without much effort to warn her of the dangers but she didn’t listen, just as he had expected her to do. It wasn’t long after the squirrels had dragged the girl kicking and screaming into the pit that he had convinced the father to go in after her.
The man had given him one last searching look before turning, defeated to fetch his daughter, brushing past inconspicuously. Wonka bit his lip annoyed that he had lost the game, only to ‘accidentally’ brush the others hand as he went to lock the gate behind the man. The elder man shot him a quick glance of confusion before returning to his task.
Wonka felt slight remorse when the man was pushed into the tunnel but ignored it in favour of getting rid of the other two brats.
~~~
It was only weeks later after he had made his peace with his father and the Buckets, who he grown quiet fond of, had moved in, that he spared a thought for the upper class English gentleman. He had accidentally brushed past Mr Bucket, he felt no such tingles and this had set off a remainder of the other man. He had the sudden urge to see him again, to brush up against him, maybe this time not by accident.
He had raced up to the nut room and had searched around outside, finally spotting a small cardboard piece hidden in the corner of the stairs. It had been weeks but as there was no dust in the factory, the air cleaned by special filter so as not to allowed dust or any unwanted particles to mix with the chocolate or sweets, no one had cleaned the area.
The card trembled in his gloved hand as he stared at the rather plainness of it. A picture of a nut, the name of the company and then below that Mr Salt and his work number. Wonka frowned at it before he flipped it over, maybe there was some information about the company. Instead there was a quickly scrawled number in black ink and Wonka found himself intrigued.
Scurrying back to his room, not worrying about the Buckets as they had all gone on a holiday to the beach for the week, to which he had declined the invitation. He picked up the oddly shaped telephone and rung the number on the back of the card.
“John Salt, how may I help you?” A monotonous voice asked and Wonka felt something catch in his throat. Silence followed as Wonka struggled to say something.
“Hello?” The voice no longer monotone sounded irritated.
“This is not amusing.” The voice caught Wonka, but before he could say anything the phone was hung up on him and he was left with an empty tone. That had defiantly been Salt. Wonka smiled a little to himself.
John.
The name suited him, perhaps he was even called Jonathan at times, or maybe Johnny. He giggled at the thought before redialing; it was picked up by a non-amused man.
“Look here you –“
“Hello?” Wonka cut the man off, only silence was heard.
“Who is this?” The voice laden with controlled irritation.
“I’m sorry about earlier, it’s Mr Willy Wonka.” Wonka was about to say something else but there was a sudden click and the line went dead. He had been hung up on! Wonka stared at the phone in his hand shrugged and redialed.
“Hello?” He asked as the phone was picked up.
“I do not wish to speak with you and I would appreciate it if you-“
“But I need to.” Silence, as if the man was shocked.
“You need to?” Cautioned curiosity.
“I want to see you, would you come over to the factory? I’ll pay for you airfare.” He knew he had blurted all of that out without much thought and that it sounded childish. He winced and realized a little too late that his confession was a little more than what he had originally thought. He really did want to see the man again, and this thought confused him.
“And why would I wish to step back into the factory that I exited covered in filth, after having been humiliated and embarrassed in front of a group of people I would never consider worthy enough to be in my presence. And you… don’t let me get started on you.” There was a quiet anger in the words, but it also seemed like there was something missing.
“I only did it for your own good.” Wonka felt childish as he almost whined his explanation. He didn’t want to be hated by this man.
“My own good?” The other man spluttered on the end of the line.
“Yes, you needed to learn discipline and control.” He heard a snort from the other end of the line, but no other reply. He sat contently cradling the phone to his ear waiting.
“So that’s…” the man started but sighed. “I would have understood if you had left it at my daughter.” Wonka stared confused at the wall in front of him trying to understand the other man’s words.
“I felt foolish, ridiculous, brushed a side. I did something I thought I would never do, never reveal. I responded to all of your advances, I even went so far as to give you my private line, and for what? I was thrown away like garbage, no I literally was garbage. That last touch though on the stairs, I thought perhaps…” The voice was weary as it skipped subject. “That I suppose was a deserved and very painful lesson, you don’t always get what you want. I’m glad my daughter learnt it an easier way, material want is so much easier to dismiss but emotional want…” The man trailed off.
The voice perked up back into the uncaring English accent from the surprisingly soft and quiet voice it had been. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to get carried overboard.” Wonka no longer stared at the wall in confusion. Everything seemed to have fallen into place and it frightened him, he hadn’t realized what he had been doing.
“I’m…” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I-” He had been about to admit he really hadn’t known what he had been doing, but in a way, he had. “I want you to come to the factory, tomorrow, I’ll book your flight for 11am.” The other end of the line was silent and Wonka hoped the man would come. A sigh.
“I’ll be there.” The phone was hung up and Wonka stared at it with newfound excitement and sudden fear.
Tomorrow then.
~
~~
~~~
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S: I’ve decided to split this up into two chapters (it was going to be one long fic)
I hope you’ve enjoyed it or found it intriguing so far.
This first chapter frustrated me because I wanted to stick to the movie but during no part of it were Wonka and Salt actually alone together, oh well as you see I have made up my own ending/continuation… bwhahahahaaa!
*sniffles* please review!
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